Captive Heart (10 page)

“What did you call me?”

“A skirt,” Thayne said. “That’s all a woman is up here. You’ll be a rare sight, and more often than not, the men you meet will think of you as just that—a skirt—and what’s beneath it.”

She frowned. “That’s despicable.”

“It is,” he agreed, glad for the edge of fear in her voice. “It’s a sorry state of affairs up in the Hills—lawless and corrupt. Gold does that to people.”

“But not you?” Her words were laced with sarcasm.

“No.” He gave her a wry smile. “Though I imagine you’d say different.”

“You’d be right.” Emma’s face softened a little. Being careful to keep her legs covered, she pulled her knees close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Though I must admit you’re a rather—unconventional—outlaw.”

“Think what you wish,” Thayne muttered. “But if you’re gonna survive up there, you’ve got to learn to trust me.”

Emmalyne rested her chin on her knees. “I told you earlier: I cannot be expected to trust an outlaw.”

“We shouldn’t have a problem, then. You’re the one who gave me that title. Truth is, you’re the only person—or thing—I’ve ever taken without asking.”

“I feel so privileged.” She glared at him.

“I can tell,” he said dryly. He studied her face in the darkness, wondering what it was going to take to get through her sarcasm and mistrust.
My way with women hasn’t improved much.
Not for the first time, Thayne felt misgivings about this errand.
What if she flat out refuses to help Joshua?

Emmalyne yawned and looked behind her, as if preparing to lie down.

“Oh no you don’t,” Thayne said, capturing her arm. “Sleep on the way back.”

“On a horse? That didn’t go too well last time—remember?” She touched the back of her head, gently probing the bump there.

“It’ll be safe enough. You’ll ride with me.”

“I’d prefer not,” she said.

“Makes two of us,” Thayne said, though he doubted their reasons were anywhere close to being the same. “But since the horses need to rest, you can answer some questions. It’ll help you stay awake. What made you decide on teaching? Why not stay home and let Daddy take care of you?”

Emmalyne frowned. “Maybe I didn’t want to be taken care of. I’m quite capable on my own.”

Yes. I know.
Thayne refrained from mentioning the many predicaments he’d had to rescue her from in the past week and a half. “Did your father approve of your decision?”

She hesitated, avoiding his gaze as she turned to stare out at the dark prairie. “He didn’t know of my decision. And as I haven’t had a letter, I am unsure of his feelings now.”

“He’s probably worried.”

“Angry,” she corrected. “By now he’s furious.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Thayne said. “What’d you two fight about that drove you away?”

“We didn’t—”

“Ah—” Thayne cut her off. “You’ve already talked some in your sleep, so you might as well tell me the rest.”

“I don’t see why you’ve any need to know.” She pouted, and her lips pushed together, full and soft, reminding him once again how pleasant kissing her had been.

“Oh, very well,” she said at last. “My father and I had a
disagreement
about my fiancé.”

Fiancé?
Thayne waited for her to go on, though what she’d just revealed unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. He hadn’t considered the possibility that she belonged to someone. When he’d first seen her on the train, he’d never in a hundred years have believed there was any likelihood she was betrothed. But then, that woman looked vastly different from the one before him now.

Gone was the severe bun, in its place a disheveled mop of honey-colored hair that fell halfway to her waist. Her skin, no longer pale, glowed from days in the sun, and a delightful sprinkling of freckles had popped up across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, making her look younger than ever. Thayne reminded himself to ask how old she was.

The blue calico he’d purchased for her was a vast improvement over the ugly traveling suit, showing off her slender figure instead of hiding it. And her eyes—those deep, expressive eyes—heaven help him. If she ever figured out how to use those to her advantage, he’d be in real trouble. Topping all that off was the knowledge that hiding her sassy mouth and sharp tongue were lips that begged to be kissed.

How on earth had he missed all that at first glance? Looking at her now and seeing the differences, he wondered, suddenly, if her getup had all been a ruse.

“Your father didn’t care for your beau?” Thayne prompted when she didn’t volunteer more of the story.

She shook her head. “
I
did not care for him. But Papa gave Wilford his blessing. Our engagement was announced at a very public affair. I had no choice but to go along with it or suffer all of us to endure complete humiliation.”

Thayne frowned at the picture she’d just painted. He imagined Emma, chin held high, fierce pride holding her emotions in check, as she stood by a man she did not love and endured an evening of congratulations. Was there no one that considered her feelings?

“And your mother? Did she support your father in his decision? Did she feel the same?” Thayne asked.

“My mother is dead,” Emmalyne said. “But no, she would not have forced my engagement. She didn’t care much about what others thought about society. She was very—”

“Outspoken,” Thayne guessed.

Emmalyne’s mouth curved in a smile. “No, actually. My mother never gave a speech in her life, never talked to those in the social circles. Yet, in her quiet way, she still made her views known. I’ve no doubt that I shouldn’t have been in this predicament were she alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Thayne said.

“Yes, well I had to leave,” Emmalyne continued, brushing off his sympathy as she brushed at a corner of her eye. “It was the only way out. I found a position as a nanny, but then I saw the advertisement for a teacher in Sterling. It seemed a good solution—the right thing to do. I purchased a ticket and borrowed some clothes from the charity bin at church.”

“
Borrowed?
”

“Very well, I took them,” she admitted. “It was after the Wednesday evening Ladies’ Aid meeting. I took the brown suit and left my own gown behind as replacement. I’m certain the person who got the dress enjoyed it much more than she would have that awful suit.”

Thayne chuckled. “Point conceded. Go on.”

“And that’s all. My friend helped get my trunk to the station, and I was well on my way—until a certain
outlaw
pulled me from my seat on the train.” She gave him a knowing look. “
Now
may we go?”

“Not yet.”

“But I answered your questions,” she protested. “Surely the horses are rested.”

Thayne shook his head. “You didn’t see how hard I rode trying to find you.”

Emmalyne looked longingly at the ground behind her. “At least let me sleep, then.”

“Nope,” he said without a trace of sympathy. “By answering my questions, you’ve paid for stealing one horse. You’ve still got to pay off the other one.”

She gasped. “I owe you nothing, Mr. Kendrich. I should like to know how it is
you
intend to make up for stealing my freedom.”

“Answer a few more questions, and then I’ll tell you.”

“Whatever happened to ladies first?”

“You
are
going first.” Thayne grinned. “You talk, then I will.”

She pressed her lips together and looked away.

“It’ll be worth your while,” Thayne promised. “You’ll be more than fairly compensated for your services as a teacher.”

“No amount of money—or gold—can replace freedom.” Her voice quavered, and Thayne knew he’d just about pushed her too far. Still, he had to know more about this fiancé. If she cared for this man at all, it’d be better to turn around and put her on the next train home. He needed a teacher with her head on straight, not some female who’d spend the year pining for her lost love. “Why didn’t you care for your fiancé?”

Emmalyne looked surprised, then uncomfortable with his question.

“Was he unkind to you?” Thayne asked. “Did he—”

“No. Nothing like that.” She waved her hand, dismissing the idea. “Wilford didn’t have a mean bone in his body. In fact . . .” She hesitated. “I think that was part of the problem. He was spineless and a
complete
fop, caring for nothing other than his father’s bank and social functions—the purpose of which was to make an appearance and outshine one’s peers. He was boring, egotistical—”

She caught herself, as if realizing what she was saying and to whom she was saying it. She took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she said meekly. “That’s more than you wanted to know.”

It was
exactly
what he’d wanted to know. He was relieved she harbored no affection for the man and that a life of certain boredom was all she’d fled. Feeling for the first time that he was making some progress, Thayne said, “So, in part at least, you came west for adventure.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” she admitted. “But I think I’ve had enough now.” She gave him a half smile.

His heart twisted. “Would you like to go back? If I offered you a ticket home, would you take it?”

“I’d take it and trade it for a ticket to Sterling.”

He hated the hopeful expression on her face. “That’s not what I asked. What I want to know is whether you’d rather be home or here—with me.”

Her answer was slow in coming, but finally she whispered, “Here.” Her expression told him she was as surprised by the admission as he was. “I don’t want to go home.” Her eyes searched his. “But I want to feel safe again.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “There are some things you should know.”

Emmalyne nodded. She still held her knees close to her chest, and she swallowed nervously. Somehow her confession that she’d rather stay with him than go home had changed things. Looking at her now, Thayne was certain she felt the subtle shift as much as he did.

“For all my poor planning as an
outlaw
, I did not choose you idly from that train. I’d almost say God mighta had a hand in it.”

“God wouldn’t—”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Thayne said, cutting off her protests. “God wouldn’t lead me to do something bad. But think about this. I was able to learn all about the Martins, their plans, their hideout. Because of me, the law is after them now, and chances are, the gang will be stopped before they can hurt too many more people.”

“I don’t know what to think about that,” Emmalyne admitted.

“Don’t think. Just feel the truth of it. I walked up and down the aisle of that train without even looking at the occupants. I knew if I trusted my gut—my God-given instinct—that I’d find the right woman. And I did.

“When I felt it, I looked down, and there you were, a prim and proper schoolteacher with a dictionary in your bag to boot. I knew you were meant to help me.”

“That’s all well and fine for you,” Emmalyne said. “But
I
have no such reassurance. All the while you were trying to get me off that train, I was praying to the Lord to
save
me.”

“Seems He did just that,” Thayne said.

“I don’t see how.”

“What would your father do if he knew where you’d gone?”

Emmalyne looked confused at the abrupt change of topics. “I didn’t suppose he’d find out until I wrote to him.”

“Did anyone else besides your friend know you’d left? A servant, maybe? Because I’d bet someone gave you away. When I was in Sidney, there was an older man with your photograph asking after you.”

Her head snapped up. “You think it was my father?”

“Unless Wilford is already balding and has your eyes.”

Emmalyne covered her mouth with her hand. “My father
followed
me? I never imagined—I didn’t think he would—” She looked at Thayne, confusion in her eyes. “What should I do?”

He repeated his earlier question. “Do you want to go home?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too soon. I want to be gone at least a year. But my father must be worried. If he’s here, then—”

“I took care of that.”

“You did?”

Thayne nodded. “Your father sent a telegram one day—I assume to someone at your home or maybe to your fiancé. I spoke with your father afterward and told him I thought I’d seen you on the train. He left his information with me, and later I paid a young boy to send a telegram to the same address.”

“What did it say?” Emmalyne asked.

“You don’t remember?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “It was from you, telling your father not to worry. That you’d safely arrived in Sidney and that your plans had changed and you were en route to your
new
position. You promised to write as soon as you were settled.”

“I did?”

“Yes.” Thayne nodded emphatically. “And you will. In the meantime, you’re safe from your boring fiancé, and—” He waited a second then plunged ahead, opening the door for her to ask about Joshua. “And there’s a boy who needs you very much.”

“You
really
sent a telegram?”

Thayne hid his disappointment. She was still too astonished and upset by the news about her father to recognize the tidbit of information he’d offered. “I’ve not lied to you yet, Emma.” Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a folded piece of paper and held it out. “Only I didn’t send it.
You
did.”

Emmalyne took the paper and opened it. Thayne watched as she scanned the writing. She was very still for a moment, then looked up at him, her eyes shining. “That was very—very . . .”

“Thoughtful?” he suggested.

“Kind,” she blurted, staring at him, a puzzled expression on her face.

He could tell she was struggling to reconcile his kindness with his other, outlawish behavior.

“If it helps,” he said, half teasing, “remember I had ulterior motives. After all, if your father had taken you home, I’d be without the teacher I need.”

She nodded, some of the confusion easing from her face. A minute passed in silence. She refolded the paper and handed it back, then lay her head to the side and closed her eyes. “I don’t know what to think anymore. You’ve got me all confused. The line between good and evil, right and wrong, is supposed to be clearer.”